dark days of sunshine
cold shivers of warmth
thick breaths of fresh air;
in the days to come, beware

growing old is for the strong and brave,
the road to old is never golden paved;

we cry a sad tear
too old we are told
when blond turns to brown
turns to gray turns to
white
not
from
fright

too old to be loved
what use the soul?

yet God gives us another day
and we take one more step alone . . .